Dawn of a Wordsmith
by smallrose
Summary: Dr. Watson as a child. The beginning of his journals and a major event in his young life. Now complete. Don't get scared off by the quantity of chapters - they're all really short.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N This fic could never have been done without bcbdrums whose idea it was in the first place! (Check out Compelling Curiousity chapter 18) This will hopefully be updated about every day adn if you're very good with reviews, you get a second one that day. ;) Enjoy... and review!_

_Written on the flyleaf:_

I have begun this journal on the 3rd of November in 1866. It is Wednesday morning.

Edinburgh, Scotland

November 3, 1866

I have so much rushing through my head, that I have no choice but to put it to paper. Maybe this way I will have a better chance of working things through. Mother is ill, very ill. I have never seen Father look so worried. Oh, yes, Mother has been ill before, but this time I know it must be very serious. I wish there were something I could do! David ran to fetch the doctor yesterday, but I don't have much hope. Neither, it seems, do Father and David.


	2. Chapter 2

November 4, 1866

The doctor seems to be doing his best. But, oh! It seems like a he's losing the battle! I heard him telling Father this morning that the best he could do was 'make the end for her comfortable'. Then he walked out and I actually heard Father cry. My strong, stolid father - crying!

David's no help to talk to these days. He walks around with a dark glower on his face and I see him going up the street to the pub more often than not. I wish he wouldn't take to drinking so much. It'll be the death of him. I can't blame him, though. I wish I could escape all this, too.

* * *

_A/N: It seems that I don't have enough time to only put up one chapter a day (as the chapters are very short) so you guys are in luck (or not, you might not care at all) I'm going to be G-d Willing putting up about 2 a day except that next week, I'll be gone for most of the week, so you might be getting more in the last two days that this week has. Did that make sense to anyone but me? ;) Once again, big thanks are in order for bcbdrums, my betareader. Consider this a farewell gift - but that doesn't mean that we **want** to say goodbye. Sorry about the long A/N interrupting the flow. I personally hate them, but alas, I am a bit of a hypocrite._


	3. Chapter 3

November 5, 1866

Mother's dead. The Funeral is tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

November 6, 1866

Father walks around like a lost man. David's been holed up in his room all day. I've been the only one around to receive all the condolences of the scores of relatives that have come, some from as far as Galashiels. Some of our elder relatives seem annoyed that they're being received by a fourteen-year old boy. How can people be annoyed by such trivial things? Can't they see that we've lost our world here? That it just crumbled and fell away? How can they not see that we are all lost, me as well?

David was sober all day today. I guess even drink isn't an escape from this. I took advantage of that to speak to him as I had been wont to whenever I had a problem and needed an elder brother, "Davey, how are we supposed to go on without Mother?" I asked. And all my big brother, who always had the answers, could tell me was, "I don't know, little brother, I don't know."


	5. Chapter 5

November 7, 1866

I still can't twist my mind around the fact that Mother isn't here. This morning, out of habit, I opened the door of her room to check on her. Instead I saw Father sitting on her bed, head bowed. He didn't hear the door open, so I just walked away.

Tonight, I went to Mother's grave just to prove to myself that it was there and that she's not simply hiding from me. It was dark and as I walked into the cemetery I heard a whimper. I walked closer and, by the moonlight, saw Davey kneeling there, tears glistening on his cheeks. I wish I could cry, too. I cried the day she went, cried out everything I had. But now, it seems I have no tears left. I wish I could cry! Maybe that would get rid of the aching inside me.


	6. Chapter 6

November 8, 1866

I'm being sent away to school when the New Year starts. Davey told me. The school is called Durham School and it's in England. He said that he discussed it with Father and they think it's best for me. To think that Davey, barely twenty, is deciding my future! But I am grateful. I think he sees that I need to escape just as much as he does. But not his way. Still, even far away in England, I shall worry about my father and brother.


	7. Chapter 7

November 12, 1866

I guess we've got to go on living. I wish I could make the living easier. There's so much I wish I could do and could have done, get David out of his black moods, and help Father find us – find the world of the living, where his sons still need him. Father never was a talkative man, but I haven't heard his voice in seven days.


	8. Chapter 8

November 18, 1866

Well, hopefully we've seen the last of our elderly relatives. Our Great Aunt Emma, Mother's aunt, came two days ago. She said she came to help us. I suppose that she had good intentions. However, it seems to me that all she could do was disapprove of Father and scold Davey. Today, she came across Davey and I fear he was slightly inebriated. He was rude to her, calling her names and telling her that she was interfering where she's not wanted. It may all have been true, but it was far from polite. I don't think I would ever have seen the old David saying such things to an elderly woman. I wish I had my older brother back! At times, it seems like he's a completely different person. I know it's the drink that makes him talk and act so, I can tell, because there are times when he is just like his old self. Still, I wish there was some way that I could make him stop relying on alcohol in order to escape life as it has been left to us now.


	9. Chapter 9

November 24, 1866

Today is my birthday. I'm fifteen, now.

When I walked downstairs this morning, David greeted me with that sad smile we all wear now.

"Happy Birthday, Johnny, may next year's be happier than this one."

Hearing this, Father raised his head as though he had been woken up. "Is it your birthday, son?"

I nodded.

Father had a strange look on his face, "Already?"

I nodded again.

"I should have remembered. I haven't been a good father to you since…" his voice trailed off and a look of pain crossed his face, "but I'll try and be a better one to you boys now, I promise."

And so, it seems as though Father has returned to the land of the living. Not all of him. None of us are completely here, some part of each of us is buried in that graveyard, but most of Father has returned. Perhaps we _can_ go on living after all.


	10. Chapter 10

December 1, 1866

I have decided that I will not talk about Mother when I get to Durham. I do not want the pity and the cheap glances of sympathy that come with it. I walked into town today to buy presents for Father and David and that was all I got--pity from the shopkeeper, pity from the woman walking with her two little boys, and pity from all the boys my age playing rugby on the green.


	11. Chapter 11

December 3, 1866

As I was going to the kitchen to ask Cook if she has any extra paper that I could wrap the presents in, I heard her talking to the maid, "Those puir lads, and their puir father. Without the mistress here, what a sorry day this holiday will be."

I decided that then wouldn't be the best time to ask for paper.


	12. Chapter 12

December 7, 1866

I went to the tailor today. I went by myself. Davey was in the shed far from sober and Father was in a brown study all day up in mother's room. But I'm glad that I went alone. I know that I should have only gotten black suits for school as I'm in mourning, but I don't want to shout out to the whole school that here's an object for their pity; so I ordered two brown ones, too, along with the four black ones. They're very dark brown, so they're almost black.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N Sorry for the long time between updates. First I was out of town, and then I was exhausted because I had been out of town. Sometimes you wonder if vacations are really worth anything when you come back so exhausted. Well, that's enough about me, let's hear about Watson! Since I'm sure you've all been eagerly awaiting the next installment of this lovely story. snort Who am I kidding? Well here it is anyway, if anyone's still interested._

* * *

December 10, 1866

I've decided that I am going to have to buy more journals so that I can keep on writing when I go away to England. There won't be anyone that I know there and I guess I'm going to have to get used to keeping things to myself with no one to talk to. I wonder if there will even be any other Scots in Durham with me.


	14. Chapter 14

December 14, 1866

I went to the bookbinder's today and bought two calf-bound journals as well as a good supply of ink. I used the money that Mother gave me on my last birthday. In this way, it's as if she's given me this gift. I guess I'll get the rest of the writing supplies that I will need for school another day with either David or Father. If either of them can come with me.


	15. Chapter 15

December 19, 1866

I need something to do besides make purchases for school and begin to pack. I need something to focus my mind on. There are times when this house feels like a tomb. It is silent and dark. No one has really been minding things here since that evil date, November 5.

I helped the maid clean out the sitting room this morning. She gave me an odd look, but didn't say anything. Then I went on to cleaning my room.


	16. Chapter 16

December 21, 1866

My cleaning fit has lasted until this morning. I cleaned out my room, helped the maid with the dining room, and then went on to the front hall. As I was neatening up the little table where all the post is kept, I found a little note, half crumpled, lying amongst all the letters and parcels. I would not have read it except that it was folded in such a way that I saw my name jump out at me. Here is how it read in a shaky handwriting that seemed vaguely familiar to my eyes:

Dear Mother,

We all miss you very much. It's hard to believe that you're gone. I hope you're watching over us and keeping an eye. Father seems like he's with you most of the time. And I, well, you wouldn't be proud of me, I guess. But you would be proud of our little Johnny. He isn't little anymore. He's the strongest of us all. I wish you could see how his straight, honest gaze keeps us all…

And that was it. I guess Davey was going to leave that at Mother's grave.


	17. Chapter 17

December 26, 1866

Well, the holiday's come and gone. I'm glad it's over. It was a difficult holiday for us all, but we couldn't expect any better. The Cook was crying as she brought in the flaming pudding at the end of the meal; so much for holiday cheer. Davey was stone drunk by nightfall, and Father barely said two words.


	18. Chapter 18

December 30, 1866

Tomorrow Father's going to drive me to the train station. It will be my first time on one of those new trains. I'll be travelling by myself, and that's a first as well. I've hardly ever been out of Edinburgh before. I'm a bit apprehensive about the trip. Davey says I'll be fine, though.


	19. Chapter 19

_Written while riding on the train, crossing the border between Scotland and England_

December 31, 1866

This is it. I've left home behind. For the next half a year, I'll be in England. I'll never forget Father's face as he said goodbye to me as I stepped into the train. "Make your Mother proud, son," was what he told me.

Davey stayed sober so that he could see me off as well. I'm worried about him, but if he can be sober some days, when he really wants to, I guess he won't end up as the town drunk. Still, I guess I'll never stop worrying about those at home.

Now, though, I've got a new chance. I'm going to a place where no one knows me, where no one pities me. I'm going to work hard at my studies, and I'll make those at home proud of me. There's just a few more hours to this ride, and then, a new part of my life is going to unfold.

* * *

_A/N Well so that's that. I fully intend to continue this with sequels, but I'm going to be gone for 7 months. During this time, I'll only have email access and won't be able to go on fanfiction to post or read stories :( . So, I'll be able to reply to reviews :) (Therefore, if you haven't reviewed yet, like if you're reading this ages after it was posted, you better review, 'cause that's the only link to that I'll have. If anyone wants they can send me a PM in 7 months to remind me about the sequels I said I would do. I hope I'll keep on writing, even though I won't be able to post, but, no promises, so REMIND ME. :D And well, what else is there to say? It's been wonderful knowing you all, and I hope you'll still be on here when I come back. _


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